


led to the flood

by krystian



Series: ex undis [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Vomiting, its not that bad, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krystian/pseuds/krystian
Summary: Living near the ocean had its perks and its drawbacks, its ups and downs, coming and going like the sea itself.Akaashi didn’t mind – he enjoyed walks along the beach, the sand between his toes and the water lapping against his feet, all too playful, but never really dangerous, at least on a good day.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: ex undis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607761
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	1. Etter en lang dag på stranden, gikk vi hjem med sand i skoene og salt i håret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems i cannot stop writing, whatcha gonna do, sue me?
> 
> anyhow, im back here with another angsty af thing but if it werent for that... well.  
> at least its not tensemi again??
> 
> the title is from The National's [Runaway](https://youtu.be/3dC4bHlNCr4) but the story is more like their song [Sorrow](https://youtu.be/vGrnVqoU3U4)
> 
> Because.  
> What makes you think I'm enjoying being led to the flood?

Living near the ocean had its perks and its drawbacks, its ups and downs, coming and going like the sea itself.

Akaashi didn’t mind – he enjoyed walks along the beach, the sand between his toes and the water lapping against his feet, all too playful, but never really dangerous, at least on a good day. The grey rock formations marring the even surface of the sea still looked like they did on the first day _(why wouldn’t they?)_ , sticking out like sore thumbs, but to him, they made it even more beautiful. They perfected the picturesque landscape, so to speak.

It was just another day, like any other, that he found himself at the beach, watching the waves come and go. It was too cold to go swimming, and even if he wanted to, the current out there was brutal. So he had to settle with staring at the waves instead, watching them from afar as they crashed down, and slowly ebbed back, leaving conches and seaweed in their wake. It was like watching a play in a theatre, mesmerizing, but distant.

He sighed, averting his eyes to look at the seashell next to him, a scallop shell he hadn’t found that long ago. Akaashi took it in his hands and examined it, its rough surface and how the sand got stuck in its small rills, how it felt on his fingertips.

It was pretty. Maybe he could make something out of it. Maybe he could bring it back to his mother.

Being out here by the sea was beautiful, but also incredibly lonesome.

He didn’t know why he’d come here. _It’ll be good for you,_ his parents had said, _it’ll help you get your head clear. And when you’re ready, you can come back and face the world anew._ If that only was how it worked, everything would be a lot easier.

At least it was quiet.

A lot quieter than back there.

Just the cries of lost seagulls and the splashing of water on the shore, a lone constant in this ever-changing world, full to bursting point with engine noise and chatter.

He picked up his thermos and took a sip, the warm liquid spreading through his body. He’d have preferred coffee, but warm milk with honey was always an alternative when your parents didn’t want you to stress yourself out with too high levels of caffeine.

It had been like that as long as he could think, though it had only gotten worse recently, during his first year of university.

When his parents had found out about their darling child not leaving the apartment for days, not calling back, not showering for days or – on some days – not even leaving the bed, they’d decided to call a halt to his unhealthy behaviour before it was too late, and sent him here.

Here, on this godforsaken coast, alone with his thoughts and feelings. Because the therapist they’d gotten him figured it’d help to spend some time away to sort out his thoughts. Alone.

And maybe it did help, to a certain degree. Not by much though. It just made him overthink things. Yet, his parents had seemed to like the idea and they spent a lot of money on this, so he supposed he should feel grateful.

It wasn’t his fault, this much he knew from the therapy sessions they made him attend, but it still felt like _that_.

Akaashi closed his eyes for a moment, thoughts lingering on how it would be back home. _Just a few more weeks,_ his mind supplied, but even that wasn’t much of a help if you didn’t know how much time you’d already spent at a certain place. It couldn’t be that long, though. His parents made sure to call at least once a day, and even in his tired state he could kind of count the days.

Some days, he felt like Robinson Crusoe, all alone on an isle he didn’t know – on other days he felt like he’d been here for an eternity already. It was confusing, and more often than not he furrowed his brows and wiped the thought aside with a simple wave of his hand, like swatting away an annoying fly.

Taking another sip from his thermos, he screwed the top back on, sealing it so no sand would get inside. He didn’t particularly _like_ sweet drinks, but he figured this one would be fine, even if it only made him drowsier, as opposed to what coffee would do.

Sighing again, he pulled a little, torn notebook from the inside pocket of his slicker. Light drizzle was another constant here, chilling you to the bone if you decided to stay out long enough. He placed it in his lap, a fountain pen poised in his fingers, and stared at the blank, already curling pages. In his mind, they filled themselves on their own, his own cursive handwriting appearing on the pages.

Of course that didn’t happen.

The pen scratched across the paper as he wrote – about nothing and everything, about what had been and what was to come. It seemed pretentious, even to him, but it was what he thought about, what swirled around in his mind and poisoned his brain. Or maybe it was just what studying philosophy entailed.

Akaashi was tired. Rubbing his temple with his free hand, his fingers gingerly brushing through wet strands of hair that must’ve seemed even darker now that they were dripping with water, he stared back up at the sea.

The sky was grey, clouds looming over the horizon as if they promised impending doom, and the sea was a deep shade of turquoise. It reflected his mood, so to speak.

If he concentrated hard enough, he could imagine his own body out there at sea, his rag doll-form thrown around by the waves, carried by the saltwater that would slowly seep into his lungs until he was nothing more than sea foam.

He shook his head – these kind of thoughts were the exact reason he’d ended up here in the first place. To get rid of them was his main objective.

But they felt pleasant, not at all wrong. Like how throwing himself off the chalk cliffs that surrounded the small cottage or falling asleep in the drizzle and contracting hypothermia seemed to be nothing more than experiments. 

Akaashi hadn’t told anyone about this, or else he wouldn’t be here. He knew what they’d say, either way. _Suicidal ideation,_ they’d call it, and _an unstable personality. A danger to himself._

It wasn’t that, exactly… it was more like childish curiosity and the constant feeling of tiredness that made his movements sluggish and his head race with unspoken thoughts.

He didn’t mind, but everyone else seemed to do, and he knew it’d upset them if he told them about it, so he refrained from doing so. Akaashi didn’t want to bother anyone any more than he already had. It wasn’t his place.

His gaze strayed to the sea once again, his mind occupied by his imagination running wild and the sound of the waves hitting the beach.

Something glittered in the distance, shimmering before dipping beneath the waves again, like a sunken treasure. Maybe a bottle. It was a little big for a bottle.

He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the _thing._ For a moment he thought his mind had imagined something that wasn’t there, had just created an image to ease his boredom, but it appeared again, just a grey glimmer above the surface, before it sank anew.

Hand shielding his face from the rain, he got up and stalked over to where the waves hit the beach, feet sinking into wet sand and sharp pieces of broken shells.

The thing appeared again, this time closer than before, but he still couldn’t make out what it was. His mind screamed at him to step back, to get back inside the cottage where it’d be warm and cosy and dry, where there were no things lurking beneath the surface.

Carefully he took off his jacket and placed it a little away from the water – not that that’d help in the rain – and then stripped off his shirt, dumping it beside the jacket. Wind gripped his upper body, and now that it hit him full on, he shivered.

His feet were suddenly emerged into ice-cold water when a particularly strong wave rolled towards him, and he shied back, deciding to keep his pants on.

Akaashi inhaled, his chest swelling up, and steeled himself, taking one step further into the flood, water reaching now until the middle of his calves, prickling like a thousand needles. It felt uncomfortable, but stepping back now would mean losing whatever was out there, and he couldn’t do that, no matter how irrational it seemed.

He breathed in, feeling the salty air coat his tongue and settle down there, heavy and humid, felt his limbs slowly being consumed by the Pacific Ocean and his toes brush against seaweed and stuff he didn’t want to think about. Sucking in breath after breath, pace rapidly increasing, he went in deeper, his body prickling and tingling at the unwelcome sensation.

The water now reached now up to his hips, his lower body freezing in the abysmal temperatures and his toes already cramping from the cold. Nevertheless, he pushed his body further, wouldn’t give up, not now, that he was so close. Akaashi had his eyes set on the _thing_ , its periodical dis- and reappearance as his feet got stuck in muddy sand and tangled in seaweeds, his arms still lifted above the water.

Breathing got harder and harder as the waves crashed against ribcage, constricted his breathing and splashed against his face, burning in his eyes and filling his nose with the unmistakeable stench of rotting sea creatures. An especially huge wave hit him right in the face, and unwillingly he swallowed what felt like a bucketful of water, hand coming up to his mouth as he coughed the water back out. He screwed up his eyes, his gaze lost and unfocused.

Just a few steps more, just-

The water pulled at his ankles, tried to drag him deeper, further away from the safe shore, tugged his clothes around, it filled everything, every little crevice and opening, it was in his hair, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his _lungs-_

He walked on the sand until there was no sand anymore.

Akaashi didn’t even have the time to breathe one last time until he was suddenly pulled under, eyes open in the murky, dark sea and salt stinging in his eyes. He clamped his mouth shut, but a few bubbles arose nonetheless, escaped to the surface above him, beneath him, he didn’t know, _couldn’t tell-_

_It was so dark._

His arms flailing around, he kicked until his feet grazed against the ground, and with force that he didn’t think he still possessed, he pushed himself off, propelling himself upwards. His head broke through the surface, and the grey sky seemed so welcoming in comparison to the dark, _dark_ world underneath. He gasped, spluttering and coughing as waves crashed against his head, disorienting him even more.

At least he was able to keep himself afloat, he mused, but for how much longer; well, that was uncertain.

Fear gripped at his body, or maybe that was just the tides, dragging him out into the open sea, calling out to him to just _give up_ and draining his strength.

His head felt heavy and his eyelids were drooping even worse now that keeping his eyes open hurt, but he made motions to swim back to the shore nonetheless.

But swimming when you really wanted to drown and fear when all you wanted was certainty were hard to deal with. He gasped again, creating more and more opportunities for the water around him to fill his mouth, run down his throat and what felt like his lungs, _but couldn’t be, because-_

Because what?

Keeping his head above the water was a chore and he was so, _so tired_. Wasn’t it easier to just give up and let the sea claim him than to struggle against it? There was no, _no_ way he’d be able to get back in his current state, not with the water tugging at him, not with the way his clothes seemed to be dragging him under even more.

Something brushed against his leg. It felt- weird. The touch was there for just a second, nothing like the seaweed or the sand or the seashells before, but a whole new sensation. His mind tried to come up with an explanation as his head was dragged underwater once again, his eyes staring into the empty, void-like space in front of him. He was too tired to resist his eyes falling shut, too tired to break through the surface once again.

A great, almost white creature passed his peripheral vision, and his eyes followed it lazily before slowly closing. His mouth opened, as something strong gripped his upper body and heaved him upwards again, firm, but cold limbs pressed against his chest.

_But no one had been there, except him, so how-_

* * *

He must’ve passed out, because he couldn’t remember the way from what felt like the middle of the ocean to the shore, grains of sand clinging to his back as his empty eyes stared at the sky. His gaze shifted to his side, and sure enough, there the silvery, shimmery thing was.

Well, it wasn’t really a thing.

More like a fish.

No, not that either.

His sluggish mind tried to come up with an appropriate term for the great, grey fish-like thing beside him, when suddenly something strong pressed onto his chest and his stomach contracted. He rolled onto his side, vomiting up what felt like a gallon of seawater, burning against his throat and leaving a sour aftertaste in his mouth.

Akaashi coughed feebly after the torrent of seawater was over, wiping his hand across his mouth as his body was shaken by shivers and his fingers felt around numbly for the shirt and slicker he knew he’d left around here.

He couldn’t find them.

Instead, something warm, if slick and wet, wrapped around his exposed torso, enclosing him almost completely.

He stared up at the very human-looking man and then let his gaze drift to his legs.

Or the place where his legs would be, if he had any.

Instead of a pair of legs, there was a long, not at all scaly fishtail.

Shark; that was the word he had been looking for.

A human with a shark for a lower body.

The man – merman? – seemed to be a little older, a little more rugged, as his arms enclosed Akaashi and his curious gaze wandered over his shape, especially his legs.

Akaashi didn’t even have the energy to push him off, instead accepting the warmth and comfort the other brought with him. The gears in his head turned almost painfully slow, screeching to a halt now and then, as he tried to process this new information.

Maybe it was a simple fever dream, or his brain playing tricks on him once again.

Maybe the thing next to him was real.

Akaashi sighed and focused on the man, whose warm, soft hands were splayed against his shoulder blades. He had short black and white hair, as well as big, golden eyes that stared down at him, unblinking. The being smiled at him, and Akaashi was almost tempted to smile back until he saw the long, pointy rows of teeth the creature possessed, shining through behind a thin-lipped mouth. Water ran down its face, rhythmically splashing against Akaashi’s own face. It made him drowsy.

He blinked, and the thing blinked back, mirroring his movements. He cocked his head to the side, and so did the thing.

Carefully, he tried to prop his hand up on the sandy ground, but it was slicker than anticipated and he slipped, almost crashing down once more, but the thing grabbed his biceps with strong, warm hands and helped him up, all the while never breaking eye contact. It crawled a bit closer, its long tail creating a pattern in the sand and its muscular arms gripping the ground beneath it tightly.

Akashi watched it come nearer, but made no move to shrink back. His mind ran wild with all different kinds of scenarios, painting horrible pictures, but it wasn’t as if the creature hadn’t had enough opportunities to take his life, right? There was no harm; and even if there was, well…

There was nothing wrong with indulging in an illusion.

He opened his mouth to speak, to ask if it understood human language, but all that came out was a high-pitched sneeze. His nose tingled, and the creature- it _laughed._

It sounded wet and bubbly, like the bubbles fizzing in a soda bottle. He stared at it, dumbfounded, as the creature threw its head in its neck, showing teeth once more.

Arms hugging his own upper body, he gnawed on his lower lip, until he could feel the contrasting taste of copper in his mouth. “Who-“ he wheezed, breaking off to clear his throat- “who are you? _What_ are you?”

The shark-thing looked at him again, its big eyes warm. “I’m Koutarou,” it introduced itself, its voice raspy and deep - not at all what you'd imagine a merman _(was it a merman?)_ to sound like. “I live around here.”

That still didn’t answer his second question; Akaashi furrowed his brows, his lips downturned. “And what are you?”

“Oh!” Koutarou looked at him, its mouth forming a perfect circle. “I guess I’m what you’d call a merman.” It supplied, gleefully watching for Akaashi’s reaction.

Well, it would be disappointed if it expected anything spectacular. Akaashi nodded – he’d have enough time later on to think about what seeing Koutarou meant for his state of mind. “I am Akaashi Keiji,” he stated his name, eyes on the horizon so they wouldn’t be drawn to Koutarou’s too sharp teeth. “I don’t live here.”

Koutarou smiled at him. “Makes sense. I’ve never seen you here before.” Its eyes crinkled up in delight at its newfound… whatever it considered Akaashi to be. “You’re pretty for a human.”

Akaashi bristled at that, not knowing how to respond. How _did_ one respond to this? “Thanks?” He tried, but Koutarou wasn’t even listening to him, instead focused on a small piece of glass half buried in the sand.

It picked it up, examining the ragged edges and Akaashi became cautious. “Don’t cut yourself,” he said warily, eyeing the offending thing nervously. Koutarou’s fingers seemed delicate.

Koutarou put it back down, more careful than when it’d picked it up. “Now you have to say I’m pretty too!” It looked expectantly at him, its eyes shining.

“You are pretty too?” It sounded more like a question than anything else, but Koutarou seemed content enough.

It beamed at Akaashi, its tail wagging and its- gills? Its gills were closing and opening rapidly. Now that Akaashi’s sight was clearer, he could make out more details. The webbed skin between its fingers and its long, weird looking ears. Its skin was also a touch paler, as if it didn’t see a lot of sunlight and its hair was matted and unkempt. Several scars adorned its strong upper body and its fin missed a chunk of flesh, even though the wound seemed to be very old.

For a moment he worried how long Koutarou would be able to survive outside of the sea; if he didn’t need to get back into the water as soon as possible, and he was about to voice his questions when Koutarou beat him to it.

“Why were you out there? You know that humans can’t swim that well, right?” It asked with childish curiosity, its big eyes focused on Akaashi.

Akaashi shrugged and then immediately winced when it hurt. “Thought I saw something,” he muttered, averting his eyes. Koutarou’s gaze was hard to withstand.

The breeze racked his frail body, making him shake as bad as leaf during a storm in November, and he gripped tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of his upper arm as his knuckles turned white.

Koutarou must’ve seen it. “You should get inside,” it advised, its tone concerned for someone it barely knew.

Akaashi nodded, but didn’t move, and neither did Koutarou. They stared at each other, not averting their eyes. For Koutarou it probably was just a staring contest. Akaashi sighed, casting his eyes down. “You should get inside the water,” he retorted, his voice dangerously close to breaking. His throat hurt.

It looked like he had just made its day, eyes sparkling and fascination on its face. “You know so much about us!” It yelled, pumping its fist into the air and almost keeling over in the process.

Akaashi snorted, even though it hurt his throat. “That’s minimum knowledge, don’t you think?” He murmured as his body continued to shake violently. It seemed that Koutarou was easy to please and even more excitable.

Smiling at him with that unsettling, toothy grin, it poked Akaashi’s biceps with its warm, long finger. “You’re freezing. If you get back inside your cave, I’ll get back into the sea.”

He didn’t even question the usage of the word ‘cave’, instead choosing to just mindlessly nod along. But still – he owed this creature his life. The least he could do… “Let me help you, then.”

Koutarou grinned and its tail flapped in the sand, moving around uselessly. “You don’t need to. I’m really strong, I’ll just crawl back.” It did as promised and flopped onto the sand, small grains now coating its slick skin, and wriggling towards the sea. Suddenly it started coughing, a hacking, concerning sound, and Akaashi hurried to its side, kneeling next to it, but Koutarou waved him off. “Just got sand in my gills,” it said, meeting Akaashi’s worried gaze.

Akaashi sighed and shook his head, not quite knowing what to do or how to feel. He contemplated carrying Koutarou, but its body seemed to be a lot heavier than what he could lift and thus he cast the idea away. Instead he put his arms under Koutarou’s armpits and tugged its body upwards, dragging it towards the sea. And indeed, Koutarou was heavier than expected.

It turned out to take quite a while and he was sweating and panting, his body getting warmer by the minute when they’d finally reached the cool water, lapping at his ankles. Koutarou sighed in content. “Thank you,” it said.

Kneeling next to it, Akaashi shook his head. “Don’t thank me.” He scrutinized Koutarou’s face, taking in every small detail; the slightly crooked nose, its thin lips, the way one eye moved a little faster than the other. At last, his eyes landed on the other’s tail, hand hovering just above it. “May I… touch it?” It was a bold move, now that Koutarou was near- almost in its element once again, but his curiosity beat his survival instinct.

Not that that was anything new.

Koutarou nodded, propping itself up on one arm as its eyes followed Akaashi’s careful movements.

Akaashi lowered his hand hesitantly until it laid on the other’s skin – sharkskin. It felt cold, a stark contrast to Koutarou’s warm hands, but pulsated beneath his fingers with life. He glided with his fingers down, and it felt smooth except from small parts where scars marred the skin. His thumb rubbed against the fin, and it felt like… rough sandpaper. Akaashi had never touched a shark before _(how could he have?)_ but contrary to popular belief, it felt quite pleasant.

Koutarou stared up at him with big, unblinking eyes.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke up, “It feels nice.” There wasn’t much else to say, even though the answer felt a little cheap and hollow to even his own ears.

Koutarou grinned at him nonetheless. “I’m glad you think so. Say, will you be here tomorrow as well?” It had a shimmer of what looked like hope in its eyes, and despite the uncanny resemblance to a shark, Akaashi felt reminded of a puppy.

“I will,” he reassured the other.

“Then I’ll be here as well!” Koutarou sent him one last look before fulling immerging its body into the water and gliding away, only its fin visible until even that disappeared into the darkness beneath.

Akaashi sighed, slow and exasperated. Just what had he gotten himself into here? As he got up, he brushed the sand off of his still wet pants and collected his other articles of clothing, including a cooling thermos of milk and a completely soaked notebook. With his belongings in his arms, he made his way to the cottage, energy now slowly seeping out of his body.

At least he’d be able to sleep fairly easy this night, that much he was sure of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second (and last) chapter is already written, i'll just need to edit it and then we'll be good to go. 
> 
> the diagnosis i got (in my 4 years of therapy oof) wasn't actually depression but my condition (thats not the right word) does include depressive episodes so,, yeah. what im trying to say is that this depiction of depression is based on my experiences
> 
> also, you wouldnt know how often i accidentally called bokuto 'him'.
> 
> no respectable therapist would actually send you to a lonesome part in the middle of nowhere if you struggled with depression, because while it can be good for some people to get their minds off of things and wholly focus on themselves for the time being, being unsupervised and all on your own with only your worst thoughts to accompany you is probably not the best idea, so it should not be done at the start of therapy where the stakes are simply too high. that being said, akaashi knows fully well what and what not to tell his therapist as not to arouse too much suspicion, so the therapist likely has no idea as to what's really going on in akaashi's head. thanks for coming to my ted talk


	2. Jeg så bølgen komme mot meg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told ya i had it prewritten. just edited it a little and now its mostly good to go. I'll prolly proofread it in a few days time to check for any mistakes i missed.

As promised, Koutarou was there the next day. And the day after that.

Soon enough, it became a habit, much like breathing, eating and everything else that he seemed to be doing in his spare time.

Akaashi would get up in the morning, do some chores like washing his clothes or cleaning the cottage and then prepare lunch. Sometimes he’d eat with Koutarou, bringing small amounts of stuff with him that he thought the other would like.

He had been right in assuming that it would relish in all kinds of seafood, especially fish, but he hadn’t known that Koutarou would also like other kinds of meat, and soon enough he’d brought every kind that he could think of to the creature living in the sea. It was gross indeed, to see how such a humanoid thing wolfed down big amounts of sometimes raw, sometimes cooked meat, but Koutarou’s expression made it worth.

Sweets were another thing – the first and only time Akaashi had brought it sweets _(a chocolate bar)_ Koutarou had gingerly placed it into its mouth, chewed and then, with an uttermost disgusted expression, spat it out onto the ground, contorting its face, and begged Akaashi to never make it eat anything like that ever again.

In return, Koutarou had brought him fish and mussels at first, but when it’d noticed that Akaashi didn’t seem to eat them, it had started bringing pretty seashells and rocks instead, dumping them next to Akaashi and watching him decide which one were the prettiest. It was endearing.

After that, they’d spend the afternoon at the beach, Koutarou sometimes swimming laps or showing off tricks and Akaashi usually reading or writing, looking up now and then to encourage Koutarou silently. Once he’d brought a chess set, but Koutarou had grown bored quickly, so he ditched the idea and instead brought a ball. When he stood in the shallow sea, water reaching only up to his knees, they could play together, throwing the ball to each other, although Koutarou preferred to play fetch. 

Then they’d say goodbye to each other. Akaashi would gather his things and Koutarou would watch him leave with sad eyes, disappearing into the sea only when it was sure that the other truly was gone.

It became harder and harder to leave from day to day, and Akaashi found himself leaving later and later, until the sun – if it was able to break through the clouds at all – would be dipping into the ocean as well.

He hadn’t tried to swim another time, and Koutarou hadn’t tried to make him. Instead it watched Akaashi with curious, sometimes concerned eyes as if it could feel that something was off.

Akaashi hadn’t told it he wouldn’t be staying, didn’t want to upset it any further. So he stayed silent.

* * *

Once he’d had asked Koutarou if there were more of its kind, but Koutarou had just shrugged its shoulders, its head laying on its arms that were resting on a sandbank in the shallow waters.

“There are,” it had answered, “but I don’t really talk to them anymore.”

“Why don’t you?” Akaashi had pried. “Don’t you miss them?”

Koutarou had shaken its head, wet hair falling into its face. “I’ve got you now, haven’t I?”

“But still,” he’d pressed on, “why are you here on your own?”

Koutarou had looked uncomfortable, averting its eyes as it worried its lower lip until one of its teeth pierced through the thin skin there. “I didn’t really like staying with them,” it had explained. “I was curious as to how the world above the water was and they didn’t like it.”

Akaashi had narrowed his eyes in thought. “And they cast you out?” He’d asked, remembering all the stories about mermaids he’d heard when he was younger.

“Not exactly.” Koutarou had still been unable to look into his eyes, instead letting them roam over the relatively calm surface of the sea. “I just wasn’t comfortable with staying there anymore, so I left.”

He had cocked his head to the side, back then, fingers tracing idly through the sand as his other hand had clutched the notebook, where a crude, childlike drawing of Koutarou had been scribbled onto the pages. “All alone?”

Koutarou had sighed, its head still on its arms. “I wasn’t alone. I had a lot of friends back then – I think you would’ve gotten along well with Eita, or anyone, really – and one of them left with me.” Before Akaashi could ask, it had continued, “I don’t know where he is now. We got separated a while ago.”

Akaashi had lowered his head. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he’d said, and he’d meant it. He did feel bad for Koutarou.

“What about you?” The other had inquired. “Why are you here all on your own? Don’t you have any friends?”

He had let his eyes wander over the beach, just as Koutarou had done a few minutes prior, deserted as always and then back to the merman in front of him who had been looking at him expectantly. “I do have friends. They’re just not here.”

Koutarou had nodded, as if he understood. He probably did. “There’s more to it than just that, isn’t there?”

“There is.” Akaashi had dragged a hand across his face, feeling the softness of his skin beneath his fingers. “My parents sent me here.”

“Why?”

He hadn’t wanted to lie. “I don’t know.” He really hadn’t wanted to.

Koutarou had hummed, curiosity radiating off of him. “How strange.”

Akaashi had just shrugged and tried to navigate Koutarou’s short attention span to a new subject.

* * *

Koutarou was looking at him when he came down that sunny afternoon _(a rarity)_ , laying lazily in the sun, letting it warm his body. Akaashi saw him wave a little as he rolled onto his side, showing off his muscular body and healthy physique, to have a better look at Akaashi.

Suddenly, he felt very self-conscious, crossing his arms over his clothed chest. He wasn’t bad-looking – at least his parents and peers had told him that – but there was also no way he could compare to a merman, of all beings.

Akaashi sighed and kneeled on the beach towel he’d deposited next to Koutarou, folding his hands in his lap as he felt the other scrutinize him. His head felt heavy, perhaps an aftereffect of going swimming a few days prior.

Koutarou’s cold nose nudged his hand, and mindlessly Akaashi patted his hair, his gaze straying to the other’s fin. A question popped up in his mind.

“How did you get that scar?” He asked, running his finger idly along the edge of the missing part of Koutarou’s dorsal fin, feeling how the skin was rougher there.

Humming a little – just a small, scratchy noise in the back of his throat – Koutarou peered down as well. “Had a sparring match with a shark,” he answered, his fingers now stroking alongside Akaashi’s at the edge of the scarred wound, “I kinda lost. It bit me.”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows, his hand halting for a second as Koutarou let out an unhappy little growl, encouraging him to keep moving. “How come? Aren’t you part shark as well?”

The sound of the sea resonated in his ears as Koutarou seemed to be mulling over an answer he could give. “I am,” he finally said, “but only partly. It’s normal for us to play like that. It’s part of growing up, down there.” Interested, he looked up at Akaashi, his big, golden eyes shining with excitement. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Koutarou prodded his hand as if to encourage him to keep petting his tail, like a dog might nudge your hand with its nose if it wanted affection.

“Well, do you have any scars? Or anything?” Koutarou examined the parts of his body that weren’t covered by his clothes, lifting Akaashi’s arm and checking, but coming away empty-handed. “None at all?”

He shook his head a little. “I have always taken good care of my body,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. “And I didn’t exactly get into many fights, either.”

Koutarou hummed again. “You humans are so weird,” he stated, looking at the sea, one hand still clutching Akaashi’s arm. “Humans, they think they’re so special, with their legs and their sentience and knowledge. But you’re nothing to the great universe, nothing to a star, nothing compared to even the puny lifespan of a simple merperson. You’ve got clue, none at all. And it eats you up from the inside. The thing you value most is destroying you; isn’t that tragic?”

He looked up at Akaashi, who could only stare back in bewilderment. “Was that a reprimand?” He asked, unsure.

The merperson shook his head, smiling once again. Seemingly nothing could wipe it from his face. “It was merely an observation.”

* * *

When he woke up this morning his mind felt sluggish, even more so than usual. The sun shone through his blinds and warmed his face, but it felt hot, way too hot. He pressed his pillow down on his face, trying to shut the light and warmth out.

His head hurt; it felt almost like bursting and he groaned as his throat constricted, because-

_Because there was water in his lungs and he was choking and he needed to… needed…_

No.

There was no water. He was in a bed.

His heart pounded in his ears, like the waves crashing against the shore.

Akaashi knew he’d have to get up, knew he’d need to visit Koutarou or the other would worry unnecessarily, but he _couldn’t_. He willed himself to function, to get up, but nothing, _nothing_ worked. 

Frustrated he pressed the pillow even closer to his face, muffling everything. He felt sticky all over, too warm and his muscles aching.

Just a few more minutes and then he’d get up; just a few more minutes then he’d call his parents and…

A few more minutes turned into a few hours, until the sun had appeared in the window at the other side of the cottage, coating his face in warm light once again.

His body still felt heavy when he got up and stumbled towards the kitchen, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his bare feet, and filled a glass with water. He emptied it in three large gulps and then refilled it, repeating the action. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he stared out of the window. Something shimmered on the surface of the water and for a second he thought it was Koutarou and his heart _hurt_ , until the thing rose into the air and took off.

How stupid of him. Just a seagull.

A seagull.

Akaashi grabbed his phone from the table, and he knew he should call his parents back, ease their worries, but he simply didn’t have the energy to. He dropped it back onto the wooden piece of furniture and ventured out of the kitchen and back into the small bedroom, almost crashing into his bed.

He could shower tomorrow. He could eat tomorrow. He could apologise to Koutarou tomorrow. Everything could wait. There was just sleep now.

Completely exhausted, he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber, and once again it felt as if the water was pulling him under, muting everything around him.

* * *

He still didn’t feel much fitter the next day, but at least he was able to get up and into the shower, letting cold water rinse his greasy hair and the sweat off of his body.

With enough determination he could just make himself and his parents believe that he’d been sick the previous day.

When he called them and told them that story, they sounded suspicious, but believed him in the end. They also gave him a day on which they’d pick him up. Three days from today. He sighed, thanked them and hung up, letting the hand holding his phone drop to his side.

He decidedly hadn’t looked in the mirror the entire morning, and he still wasn’t about to do it now. Akaashi could just imagine what he looked like; sunken cheeks, dark bags beneath his eyes and his hair unkempt, tousled by sleep.

Though, his looks were the last thing he’d need to fix right now. Wanting to keep his fingers and mind occupied, he went to prepare lunch for himself and Koutarou. Nothing too fancy, just something he could convey his guilt with.

Backpack ready, he ventured down the dunes and onto the beach, spotting Koutarou from afar.

The merman laid on the beach, upper body half exposed to the air and seemed to be sleeping. Judging by the salt-crusted state of his skin and his dry hair, he’d been on land for quite a while.

Akaashi kneeled next to him and shook his shoulder softly, hand barely on the other’s skin, but Koutarou jerked awake nonetheless, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “You’re here,” he croaked out, voice still tinged with sleep, and Akaashi felt his lips curl into a slight smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m here,” he assured Koutarou.

Two strong, warm hands pulled him down and into a hug. He could feel Koutarou’s heart beating against his own, could feel how his erratic heartbeat got calmer and calmer until it matched Akaashi’s own. His hands stroked Koutarou’s back, murmuring softly into the other’s ear.

“Why did you leave?” Koutarou sounded hurt as he pulled away to examine Akaashi, probably to check him for any wounds or such. When his gaze didn’t find anything, they flitted back up to Akaashi’s face, meeting his eyes. “Why did you leave me alone?”

Akaashi sighed. “I didn’t mean to. I just had some important things to take care of, okay?” He didn’t want to tell Koutarou about his parents, about why he was here or anything else, really. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other – it was more that he didn’t want to tarnish this relationship with his own issues. 

Koutarou’s lower lip wobbled dangerously. “Please never do that again, Akaashi. Never leave me again.”

He could feel his heart shatter against the cliff as his eyes met Koutarou’s, and he nodded. “You can call me Keiji, you know,” he tried to avert the other’s attention so he wouldn’t have to give an answer to the plead.

And surprisingly enough, it worked. 

It was like giving a child a treat. Koutarou’s eyes lit up and his whole face visibly brightened, completely forgetting about what he just had asked. “Then I will call you Keiji!” His hand came up to the back of his neck, rubbing tenderly at it. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Akaashi smiled back. “I’m glad, too.”

“And now let’s do something fun! There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you!”

* * *

He _should_ tell Koutarou sooner than later; preferably rather sooner. He just didn’t know how to.

It loomed over his head like the big, black clouds above the sea. A storm was coming, Koutarou had said.

Two more days.

He went down early that day, feeling the light drizzle on his skin as he spotted Koutarou lounging around one of the bigger rocks, trying to heave himself up using only his arms. It looked ridiculous, as he failed and slipped off, landing, with a splash, in the water once again.

As soon as he noticed Keiji, he swam towards the shore to lay in the shallow water, expectantly looking up at the human currently looming over him. “Keiji!” He greeted him, waving a little to beckon him closer.

Keiji smiled at him, dropping his backpack onto the sand and then carefully sitting next to it, as close as he could to Koutarou without getting his pants completely soaked. “Hello Koutarou.”

The other smiled his toothy grin. It didn’t even disturb him that much anymore. “What’re we gonna do today?” He asked, his tail flopping in the water with barely contained excitement.

Unpacking his backpack, Keiji asked back, “Well, what do you want to do?” From the corners of his eyes, he could see Koutarou shrug.

“I dunno, whatever you wanna do!”

Keiji had already anticipated that answer, of course. “I thought I could read you a story. It might interest you.”

Koutarou looked at him in awe. “You can read? Can you teach it to me?”

It hadn’t even occurred to Keiji that the other wouldn’t be able to read, but in hindsight it made sense. Of course there was no need to read underwater. “Sure,” he complied, furrowing his brows as Koutarou settled down once again, making himself comfortable on a little bed of seaweed that he’d laid out there. Clearing his throat, he opened the book at the beginning.

“Far out at sea the water is as blue as the petals of the loveliest cornflower and as clear as the purest glass, but it is very deep, deeper than any anchor cable can reach, many church towers would have to be placed on top of each other to stretch from the sea-bed to the surface. Down there the sea-folk live.”

The other interrupted him with a squeal. “Like me! I’m also a part of the sea-folk, aren’t I?”

Keiji regarded him with a soft look. “You sure are,” he reassured the other, “that’s why I want to tell you this story.”

Koutarou smiled at him, his eyes bigger now than ever before as he laid his head near Keiji’s thigh.

And for once, the agitated merman was quiet.

* * *

“‘We can float unseen into the homes of humans who have children, and each time we find a good child that gladdens its parents and earns their love, God shortens our time of probation. The child is unaware of us flying through the living room, and when we smile with joy at it, one year is taken away from our three hundred, but if we see a naughty and wicked child, then we have to cry tears of sorrow, and each tear adds a further day to our time of probation!’”

The sun was setting when he closed the book, and Koutarou was still quiet, apparently thinking about what he just had heard. “What do you think?” Keiji asked, because what opinion was better than that of an actual merperson?

“I think,” Koutarou started, his eyes fixated on a spot faraway, “that this is a very sad ending. I didn’t like it.” He pouted a little, his tail splashing languidly in the water.

“Okay, but can it really happen?” Keiji was leaning forwards, his hands propped up on the sand. “Or is that just a myth?”

Koutarou shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen it happen, but I’m also not that old, either. It might’ve happened before for all I know”

Keiji leant a little backwards, angling his body so his back wouldn’t hurt later on. “Turning into sea foam doesn’t sound like such a bad idea half of the time,” he admitted, watching as the sun slowly declined on its way.

Eyeing him curiously, Koutarou clicked his tongue. “I don’t know. It doesn’t sound very appealing to me.”

Keiji gave a small chuckle. “Maybe not. I wouldn’t want you to turn into sea foam.”

Koutarou grinned at him. “I wouldn’t want you to turn into sea foam either.” Keiji felt his heart light up, and even though it was just such a mundane sentence, it meant the world to him. But Koutarou was already talking again. “Could you maybe tell me another story? One with a happy ending, this time?” He asked, hemming and hawing a little as if abashed, a purplish blush tinting his cheeks and shoulders.

Keiji watched him with warm eyes. “Of course.”

* * *

The storm was hitting, just as Koutarou had predicted. One more day.

Through wind and weather, Keiji trudged down the slope of the dunes, his feet clad in thick rain boots and the slicker pressed tight to his body as the winds ripped at him, dragging him from one direction to the other. He was barely able to see anything, much less the small figure that was Koutarou.

Nevertheless, he knew where to go and he wouldn’t disappoint him again. Keiji kept going, until his fingers felt numb and his nose was runny, until the rain had almost made him blind and the breeze had whipped his face raw.

He noticed that he’d arrived when his boots sank in the muddy sand deeper than before and water began running into them. Cursing, he retracted slightly before letting his gaze roam the area. “Koutarou?” He yelled, but the sound was lost in the roaring of the sea. “Koutarou!” He tried again, louder.

A voice next to him piped up. “You shouldn’t have come, Keiji.” Koutarou was barely audible above the storm, barely visible in the rain and the spume, his almost white body blending in perfectly. “It’s dangerous for a human like you. And even a creature of the sea like me,” he explained, his voice unnaturally serious. “I’ll be withdrawing myself to the depths until it has calmed again, and I advise you to do it too. It can’t last more than a few days.”

A few days.

Keiji didn’t have a few days.

Vigorously, he shook his head. “No.”

In the dim light, he could make out Koutarou drawing his eyebrows together. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t stay out here. Go back to your cave. We’ll be seeing each other after this.”

No.

Keiji took one step farther into the water; it filled his shoes completely this time, but he didn’t care. “I’m not leaving.” He knew he was acting irrational, that he endangered both himself as well as Koutarou, but he _couldn’t_ leave.

He just couldn’t.

Koutarou must have seen something in his eyes, because he seemed to relent, to break under his gaze. “Alright,” he steered in, recognizing a lost case when seeing one. “Then you’ll come with me so I can make sure you’re safe.”

Before Keiji could ask what ‘coming with him’ entailed, the merman had grabbed his leg and dragged him into the sea, his head hitting against sand that felt like concrete, making him dizzy.

He wanted to scream, wanted to shout at Koutarou, but all that came out was a gurgle when water filled his mouth once again. The merman dragged him away, unrelenting and only occasionally glancing back to make sure that Keiji was still well.

Keiji flailed around a little to make Koutarou notice him, to get him to see that he was hurting him, before the merman scooped him up in his arms.

Koutarou enclosed Keiji in his arms, shielded him from the worst of the wild sea as his body propelled through the waves, his tail working against tide and storm, and Keiji couldn’t do much more than hold on tight and bury his face against Koutarou’s neck as he kept swallowing water and coughing it up shortly after.

He couldn’t see anything, maybe he’d closed his eyes along the way, couldn’t hear anything but Koutarou’s heartbeat or maybe it was the roaring of the storm or maybe-

Then, there was silence.

Well, not exactly silence, but the storm felt… subdued, somehow. Keiji pried his eyes open through what felt like a thick crust of salt and blinked. Blinked at Koutarou in front of him on the stone ground, completely out of the sea as he worriedly gazed at Keiji. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as his eyebrows knitted together.

Keiji nodded. Only when he was sure his voice wouldn’t fail him did he dare to speak. “Where are we?”

Koutarou blinked at him. “One of the stone formations you could see from the shore. It was hollowed out by wind and weather, and I thought we’d be safe here.”

Keiji looked around; at the water lapping at the edge of the plateau, at the small opening that lead to the top of the stone, at the dripping walls. “I shouldn’t have gotten you mixed up in this. I was selfish.” His hands balled up into tense fists at his side and his nails dug in the soft flesh there, leaving crescent marks.

Guilt gnawed at him as he stared at Koutarou, but the other just shrugged. “It’s fine, I’ve known worse.”

He shook his head. “It’s really not fine. You could’ve died.”

“Same could’ve happened to you,” Koutarou shot back. “But we didn’t, so it’s fine. Anyhow, I can’t stay here for long.” He must have seen Keiji’s frightened gaze as he dropped at Koutarou’s side, his hand shaky on the other's tail, because he added, “Don’t worry, I’ll be in the vicinity. At the ground of the sea. You should stay inside.”

Keiji shook his head. “Don’t leave.”

Koutarou’s gaze was full of pity _(Keiji didn’t want pity)_ when he looked up at him. “I need to; I can’t stay here. But if that makes it any better-“ he paused long enough to tangle his hand in the dark locks at the back of Keiji’s head, pulling him down to press a chaste kiss onto his lips- “I’ll be coming back. I promise.”

Keiji’s hand fluttered to his lips, astonished and confused. Koutarou’s lips had been cold, yes, but also- soft. They didn’t taste like the fish he ate, but rather like salt, leaving the aftertaste lingering in his mouth. Koutarou seemed to take his silence as his way of caving in.

Humming a little, he pushed himself off of the ground and crawled over sharp stones to the edge of the plateau, carefully manoeuvring his lower body into the water, until he slipped inside and was gone from sight.

Keiji was alone.

He hated being alone.

His breath hitched in his throat and he scrambled towards the edge, almost slipping on the slick ground, and fell beside it, staring into the dark water, searching for Koutarou. Just a sign of him.

But the other wasn’t there.

He was alone.

Grabbing the wet stonewall with his already aching hand, he got up and stalked over to the opening in the ceiling. With a little luck, he…

Keiji kicked off his boots, dumping them on the cold floor and his feet made splashing sounds on the wet ground of the cave. He dug his fingers into the hard, cold wall beside him as his feet tried to find a ledge, a stone out of place, _anything_ and he heaved himself upwards, higher and higher as his nails started to bleed and his head became dizzy with exhaustion.

Just a little higher…

His hands grabbed the rim of the opening and with burning arms he pulled himself up. Keiji didn’t know where the strength came from, but at this point there was no use asking.

He tried standing up, but the wind kept pushing him from side to side until he was at the edge of the stone, one feet close to slipping off on the wet ground. Keiji kneeled down, his eyes scanned the surface of the turbulent water, searching.

A small, grey speck, flitting in the water near the base of the stone.

“Koutarou!” He yelled with all his might to drown out the noise of the waves.

He was so, _so_ stupid.

The thing – probably Koutarou – turned around to him, looking up. He couldn’t quite see him, but he was sure the other blanched. “Get back inside!” Koutarou called back, his body thrown around like a rag doll now that he kept still, perhaps not daring to move, fearing that Keiji would follow him. 

Keiji gripped the slick, mossy surface of the stone tighter, even though he didn’t fear slipping off of it. Wind whipped his dark hair into his face and he had to spit out a strand of it before he could answer.

“Can’t you take me with you?” Keiji pleaded for the first time in his life.

Because ultimately, there was nothing for him at home, and everything down there, right beneath the surface.

“I can’t,” Koutarou answered. “And you know that.” He swam a little backwards so the torrent wouldn’t throw his body against the stone and crush his bones, turn him into sea foam.

And Keiji took one last, hopeful breath and let himself fall into the wild sea, let himself sink until his body met stone and water filled his lungs.

Something brushed against his leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of have a something planned, and by planned i mean i have like 5 notes on the document and no idea where to go with them. 
> 
> anyhow, please let me know what you think :)
> 
> the credits for the little mermaid go to the author (John Irons in this case, i guess?) of the english translation i used.  
> 


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